


Let's Make A Little Noise, Darling

by myriddin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dirty Talk, F/M, Library Sex, Noise Kink, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 17:37:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6433933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myriddin/pseuds/myriddin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet from the Valar-morekinks meme. Prompt from Anon: Jon x Sansa, noise kink, one of them is a uni librarian and the other is a student. the library is usually the quietest place on campus…but not after the doors close…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Make A Little Noise, Darling

Sansa bit her lip hard as her lover’s fingers stroked her entrance and slipped inside, stretching her deliciously as they scissored and hit a spot inside her that had her bucking back against him. She tilted her head back enough to bit at his ear, earning a grunt from him as she traced her tongue along the shell. “Now, Jon, please.”  
  
Jon growled with approval and wrapped his arm around her waist, tilting her pelvis up until he could slide her smoothly onto his cock. Then Sansa angled her hips back, letting him slip even deeper inside her, and Jon began to move.  
  
Sansa groped for leverage against the laquered surface of the table she was bend over, feeling it shake and groan beneath them with the force of his thrusts. She flung one hand behind her to dig her nails into his back, urging him on as pleasure sang through her in a heated flood and she clung on for dear life.  
  
Jon watched through hazy eyes as Sansa threw her head back to rest against his shoulder, her beautiful neck craned back temptingly, but no a single word fell from her lips. He was determined to change that.  
  
He reached up to push away her hair, lowered his head to tease the tense tendons of neck with teeth and tongue. Here, closer, he could make out Sansa’s sharp gasp, her muffled moans, but he wanted more. “Let me hear you, lovely. You’re not shy to let me know how much you like my cock anywhere else, why not here?”  
  
She shook her head, even as she pushed back against him in a plea for more. He continued to nip and tease her skin, red spots blooming against the pale flesh. “C'mon, sweetheart, I wanna hear you,” he urged again, emphasizing his point with a sharp thrust, finally earning a mewl of surprise as the entire table bucked forward in response.  
  
Jon slipped out of her body and flipped her over onto her back, her legs automatically coming up to firmly hug his lips as he slid back inside her. He grinned as she moaned and arched her back. “Now that’s more like it,” he rasped throatily, pillowing his forearm behind her head before he once more began to drive himself into the heat of her, thrusting with a single-minded intensity to make her scream his name.  
  
“Fuck, Jon, please. Please!”  
  
She matched his pace without hesitation, and he felt a familiar tension begin to build, an urgency echoed in every rock and arch of her body into his, letting pleasure and sensation mingle and entwine. He lifted them both until they were firmly atop the tabletop, bracing his weight against his knees until he could snake a hand between them, rubbing her clit in firm circles. “Let me hear you scream, Sansa. Let them all know how much Ms. Stark likes being fucked by her favorite grad student.”  
  
She did scream his name, gloriously letting her voice echo from the ceiling and the walls as she quaked around him in climax, squeezing tight as a vise until he was spilling over into his own finish.  
  
Spiraling down from the heights of orgasm, they lay limp in each other’s arms, bodies still joined. With his face buried in her hair, Jon sighed, as he came out of his daze to her hands skating up his back in a slow, lazy caress. “Just who do you expect to hear us on the fourth floor on a Sunday night?” she asked wryly.  
  
He chuckled and had to concede her point, but had to keep from crowing with victory a week later when he heard the whispers of a ghost occupying the half-abandoned top floor of the university library.


End file.
